


Anything, Please!

by Broba



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Multi, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-20
Updated: 2012-02-20
Packaged: 2017-10-31 12:37:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/344138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Broba/pseuds/Broba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I just love the screwball comedies of the 50's and 60's, and the thought of a love triangle between Mom, Dad and Bro in a Billy Wilder-esque sex comedy was just far too delicious to ignore. Comedy is hard! You never know whether the jokes work until people tell you that they laughed, and this was one that got a lot of good responses so I like to think most of the jokes worked pretty well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anything, Please!

A sunny day, another perfect morning, another day of birds singing and sunshine, flowers in the garden and ice in the bucket. The horrible cabinet clock in the hallways struck ten with a bong, and by the dictates of a complex internal arithmetic Mom decided it was time for a drink.  
  
She clicked across the Spanish tile floor of the kitchen, her lethal heels making a sound like a spider tap dancing, slowly, and mixed herself a dirty Martini. She would have had the boy make her one, but she doubted he could do it properly and besides, she didn't care for him much.  
  
"I don't care for you much," she remarked as she took half the glass in one sip. The boy was across the kitchen working on cleaning off some obscure implement, whatever it was these people use for gardening. He looked up and at her, though it was hard to tell with those ridiculous pointed glasses. He mutely pointed to his own chest and raised his eyebrows in question as if to say "Me? I'm hurt."  
  
"And take of those ridiculous sunglasses. You look like Sophia Loren without the hips."  
  
She smirked and flounced out onto the patio, eviscerating her Martini as she went with sharp, lethal sips. She barely made it to the sun lounger before her glass was dry, fortunately she always kept a well stocked refrigerator there under the sun shade. She laid down to work on a gin and watch the pool. She never liked to swim, but she did watch the water. Like a hawk.  
  
Across the garden where the high hedges screened off the road- and not high enough, in her opinion, Mom saw a motion and swivelled at the neck to regard it closely. An observer might have been surprised that her gaze did not actually set anything on fire. With a lot of difficulty, and all the while trying to look as inconspicuous as possible, a man managed to half climb and half fall-through the hedge before straightening up and leaping crab-wise into cover behind a shed. Mom just groaned.  
  
"Oh for God's sake," she muttered, "The man has to be deranged."  
  
He darted from shed, to tree, to ornamental plant pot, to conveniently shaped shrub, sneaking closer to her until, after an exhausting ten minutes that tested Mom's tolerance, he presented himself. Truly a vision, in a crisp linen suit and hat marred only by a ridiculous comedy moustache arrangement. Mom almost bit her cigarette holder in half when she saw it.  
  
"I see from your facial hair that we can chalk up another victory to the homosexuals- got another one did they?"  
  
The man removed the false moustache with a flourish revealing that he was, in fact, Dad, "Ha! You see, I had to come here in disguise- a little trickery served the occasion well!"  
"Oh good lord would you sit down and pour me another gin, you look patently ridiculous."  
"Alright I won't put it back on again."  
"Yes, the moustache is awful, too."  
  
Dad slid into a lawn chair beside her and obliged her with a drink. In an instant he had whipped up a very passable Tom Collins, and she could respect that in a man.  
  
"I don't see why you have to be so secretive anyway, there's nobody here but the boy and Rose."  
"I know your Rose is very mature and the soul of discretion,"  
"She really isn't you know,"  
"-But my John just isn't ready for the news yet, I would just hate for him to find out that his dear Papa were courting again from one of his little friends. I know that when the time is right I will be able to sit down with him for a proper man-to-man, perhaps when he is old enough for a pipe."  
"By then I'll be old enough for a box. And a woman," she bent up a leg and slapped a hand onto her knee, "-has needs too you know,"  
Dad began to perspire and ran a finger around his collar, "Good lord,"  
"Oh he has nothing to do with the things I want to do to you! Now how about I entice you into the old boat-house!"  
"I... I don't think I've ever heard it called that before..."  
"Well you didn't want to be anywhere near Rose, and there's a water bed in the yacht." She looked at him blankly, before pointing in the direction of the lake. He stared blankly for a moment and then said "Aaaaah..."  
  
It was enough for her, she got the message. Once more he was going to give her the talk about the time not being right, their relationship not being ready, probably some such nonsense about how romance is like a cake which must be baked patiently for the correct period. Possibly he would make reference to the soufflé of desire rising best when heated longer. If Mom had not desired the despicably honest man so much she would have destroyed him in cruel and inventive ways by now. At first it had seemed enticing that he was so chaste, but she was getting tired of doing all the chasing. That had been why she had hired the boy.  
  
Mom clapped her hands merrily and lit another cigarette, "Now dear, I don't want you to feel pressured! After all it is a lovely day, I am sure we can find some other way to amuse ourselves."  
  
He didn't like the way she said that.  
  
"Hallo there," she called back to the house, "I am considering a dip in the pool later on, would you be a dear, boy?"  
  
That was the signal, and Bro sighed ruefully. Every damn day the same. She would be considering a dip, usually after about half a bottle of gin, and would call on him to prepare the pool just how she liked. In the event "just how she liked" involved him skimming the water with a pool net wearing very little. As Bro wandered out onto the patio he pulled his shirt over his head, this neither mussed his hair nor unbalanced his shades, it was a practised motion. Stripped to the waist he began to swirl the net through the water. It was, as ever, immaculate but she insisted just about every day on this ritual. If he hadn't needed the money, Bro wouldn't have been caught dead anywhere near the old lush but with the economy being the way it was, and muppet porn declining in market share, he was forced to make ends meet as best he could.  
  
Mom watched Bro working, she appreciated with the eye of a seasoned connoisseur the way his muscles tensed and moved, he was compact but dense and built like someone who actually used their body instead of just building it up for show. Mom liked a man who knew how to use what he had. She sipped her Tom Collins and gave Dad a sidewards glance, witheringly smug.  
  
"You know, you shouldn't think you don't have any competition. The boy there is quite excitable sometimes."  
"Whatever do you mean by that? Him? And, you? Him?"  
"Well let's just say, the lad certainly knows how to work a pole. It's all in the wrist action you know."  
"That's just... I don't even..."  
"You don't like that do you?" She twisted like a panther and faced him, practically crawling off her lounger into his lap, "why don't you do anything about it then? Heaven knows Mr Lalonde, God rest his soul, knew how to slap the sass off a lady when he had to!"  
"I'll have you know I am a successful slapper of sufficient sass! You- you-" he wanted to say "hoochie-lady" but he was able to maintain his composure before he risked becoming an absolute beast.  
  
Bro had been working his way around the pool as they bickered more noisily. By the time he was nearest to them, Mom leapt up and he found himself almost wearing his employer.  
"Pool-boy!" She cried out imperiously, "I'm thirsty, would you be an absolute darling and fetch me a Martini?"  
  
He muttered something and moved back into the house, avoiding Dad's eye as he went. The man was glaring daggers at him and, for reasons not immediately apparent, clutching what appeared to be a comedy false moustache. Bro busied himself in the kitchen, trying not to think about it, trying to keep his mind on pH levels and chlorine saturation like a good pool boy. Suddenly and without warning, which Bro found particularly impressive, he was confronted by a small girl. She couldn't have been any older then his little weenie of a brother but she had the same steely eyes of a killer as Mrs Lalonde. Bro froze, suddenly aware that he was half naked and clutching a bucket of ice in the kitchen of this girl's mother. There was really no good way of presenting that, and it was hella not ironic in the minimum.  
  
She stared at him, fixing him, and slowly lifted one hand, describing a V with her hooked first and second fingers. She thrust the fingertips in the direction of her eyes in a sharp motion, and then turned her hand to point at him meaningfully, stabbing the air. Bro got it. Bitch was going to take him down to chinatown if he stepped out of line. Well that suited him, because if he ended up on the wrong side of the line surrounding Mrs Lalonde there would be nothing left for it but to hope for a quick death.  
  
Outside, Mom was trying to soothe Dad who had resorted to the comedy moustache again. She was trying to pull the rotten thing from his face, and he was deftly avoiding her advances with tricky dexterity. Bro returned with the drink, trying to look as nonchalant as possible. She was screaming at him now to be rid of the dratted thing when Bro tried to get her attention, clearing his throat ironically.  
  
"You will remove it right this moment!"  
"I don't think I'm ready to! I need it a bit longer!"  
"I'll rip it right off you in a minute! Now do as you're told and take IT OFF!!"  
  
It was at this moment that Bro mentioned in passing that the young lady of the house had descended from her room. There was a squeal registering high on the range of human tolerance from Dad and suddenly Mom found herself standing on her own with a slightly ragged comedy fake moustache in her hand. She was nonplussed, even Bro though that was quite an exit. When Rose emerged seconds later onto the patio, drawn by the sound of screaming, she saw her mother waving the fluffy thing at the topless Bro and casually enquired as to what Mom intended on doing with it.  
  
Mom recovered instantly and, in an exquisite moment of pure passive-agression slapped the false comedy moustache across Bro's lip and announced, "It's just how I like my men."  
  
Rose fixed Bro with an icy gaze born in the depthless black bosom of trans-stellar space and pointed two fingers at her eyes, then at him violently. She absconded from the sorry scene as soon as her point sank home. Mom looked around in confusion as soon as the coast was clear,  
  
"Where did he...?" She then saw him- he was clinging to the interior of the sun shade, perched within its concave inner surface like a crab clinging to a pot.  
"Is she gone?"  
"She has gone and this is quite ridiculous! Now I demand you come down from there!"  
  
Dad unfolded himself, mustering a surprising amount of dignity.  
  
"I think I could use one of those Martinis too."  
"Boy!"  
  
Bro shrugged and wandered back to the kitchen. He didn't even bother removing the comedy moustache, it was turning out to be one of those days.  
  
Mom had to practically manhandle Dad into the house, but with a surprisingly throaty bellow of effort and an elbow to the small of his back she drove him over the threshold, from beyond which there would be no escaping even for a trickster. He huddled in a couch, looking about with mad quick eyes and hiding behind a furze of pipe smoke. Mom busied herself preparing one of her most lethal cocktails, a brew destined to be forbidden in the greater tri-state area in years to come but currently technically legal. As Bro sauntered across the room whistling tunelessly and tugging his shirt back into place Dad seized on him, grabbing his arm. Bro twisted to stare at him in a combination of shock and also shock, fully ready to beat down a fool.  
  
"Listen my good man," Dad hissed, "you're in a position to do me a great service,"  
"Yuh... well..."  
"For which I will gladly offer commensurate recompense!"  
  
In explanation Dad passed several immaculate notes from his wallet and crumpled them into Bro's hand. Bro looked at him quizzically.  
  
"As you may know, Mrs Lalonde is quite the passionate tiger-lady!"  
"I, uh..."  
"Well I'll lay out all my cards on the line as it were. If young Rose finds out I am her mother's new paramour, I'll be severely discomfited! I need you to engage in a suitably stimulating simulacrum of sensuality in order that attention not be directed toward my own activities!"  
"You, uh,"  
"Make Rose think it is you and not I who pursue the good Mrs Lalonde, and I will be in your eternal debt!"  
  
Bro weighed up the notes in his hand reflectively. Mom never -never- tipped. She felt it encouraged Mexicans, somehow. Bro just nodded. No problem.  
  
Dad winked at him theatrically and sat himself down, already feeling more relaxed. Bro wanted to just get the hell out of there when he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Mom was beckoning him into the kitchen. With a resigned sigh he entered her diabolical lair. She seized on him as soon as he did, speaking in a surprisingly articulate hiss.  
  
"You see that man in there? Don't look! Well I am going to have him, you understand? I'm going to make him mine and do things to him they haven't had a word for since the forties!"  
  
Bro swallowed, hard.  
  
"Uh,"  
"And you're going to help me, pool boy! I need you to make him jealous, show him what he's missing out on!"  
"I..."  
Mom slid her hands sensually down her sides over her sharpened hips, "Don't pretend like you haven't thought about this!"  
"Okay. I'm totally not pretendin'"  
She slapped a hand to his thigh and hooked a leg around his, before stroking a hand over his chest. "Don't get any smart ideas, this is all for show- if you get too frisky I'll give you such a beating 'till you cry sassafrass!"  
"That's... not..."  
She sighed and reached behind her, producing a crumpled fist of bills from, Bro suspected, within her undergarments, there was a snap of elasticated nylon. She pushed the money into his hand, "Do we understand one another?"  
"Oh yeah. This is still a bad..."  
She smacked him lightly across the cheek, "You shut your filthy immigrant mouth and do as you're told!"  
"But I'm American!"  
"You just keep on reaching for that rainbow, Hernandez, and in the mean time you do as I say and think about spending all the deniro, we gusta?"  
"You know what? Sure thing. Absolutely."  
"Say it! That's how your people swear!"  
Bro stared at her stonily for a moment. "We, uh, are gusta."  
"That's my boy! Now get to work on some dinner, and for God's sake cook something local."  
  
In the event, dinner turned out to be merely another awful cavalcade of horrors. The three of them were sat at table, Dad at the end as befitted a "visiting guest," with Mom and Bro facing each other and a little way down, Rose sat and mulled over her food, wondering exactly what sickeningly passive-aggressive scheme her shrew of a mother was plotting exactly. She knew when her Mom was up to something, and tonight that warning bell was ringing off the hook.  
  
For some reason the pool boy had been invited to join them for evening meal tonight, along with John's father who had stopped by, and Mom was giving the most ferocious attention. Things started off weird enough but took a turn for the downright bizarre. It all started when Mom tried making small talk at Bro.  
  
"I must say, the way you cleaned the pool up earlier, was spectacular,"  
"That's just the way I do it," replied Bro with steely intensity, "I clean up like no other brother. I'm all about that whole sort of area."  
"You must get tired working so hard with your big, sweaty arms in the hot sun,"  
"It's worth it, 'cause I want everything to be just perfect when you feel like gettin' wet,"  
"You're making me want to slip right into it here and now,"  
"I'm ready and waiting, I even got towels and everythin'"  
  
While Rose looked on in mounting horror, she couldn't help but notice Dad making shocked expressions at her and wiggling his eyebrows frantically as if to say "I know! I can't believe it either!"  
  
Mom was starting to get a little flustered, since Dad was looking remarkably composed. She had expected that Bro would have got him far more jealous by now. She would have been happy to see even a cough of irritation, she asked for so little in life and the infuriating man persisted in denying her even that. Bro had finally had enough. He surged to his feet.  
  
"I have to go! Aarrgh!"  
Dad had kicked him under the table.  
"Nonsense young man," Dad said through a forced grin, "won't you stay and aargh!"  
Mom had kicked Dad, though she had been aiming for Bro.  
"Both of you, please, not in front of dear Rose," said Mom sweetly in a tone of voice normally used to say "Die."  
Bro sat down, then had a brainwave and stood up, "I'll go and get some drinks! We should have some arrgh!" That time was Mom.  
"Nonsense!" Dad stood up, "I'll not hear of it, allow me!"  
Bro panicked. Being alone with both the Lalonde females? At once? He stood up sharply, "Sit your ass down, dude, allow me to be one hell of polite all up ins!"  
There was a shuffle of movement, and a wooden sounding clonk. The entire table shuddered as Dad savagely and accidentally kicked the table leg. Bro cackled and danced backwards, whispering "Missed me, bitch!"  
Bro attempted to sashay out of the door at high speed leaving Mom and Dad, she pierced him with a plaintive look, "Oh I thought the beast would never leave! Did you see the way he was looking at me?"  
"I most certainly did madam, the look of true love is unmistakeable, and" he raised his voice to be sure Rose would catch every word, "I shall wish you both the most happiness!"  
Mom was shocked but she knew how to play the escalation game. "Why thank you Mister Egbert, I shall keep your kind words close to my bosom when that rampant buck comes rutting along!"  
"I would be most gratified if you did!" Replied Dad, almost yelling, "a firm young fellow like that will prove very satisfactory I am sure!"  
"You are so good a friend to me, offering your blessings on my violent and athletic couplings!"  
"I could do no less! I am sure he will saddle you up and ride you like a pony!"  
  
They were practically nose to nose now and nearly screeching. Bro returned with a tray full of Jaeger shots because he was feeling classy and strode up to them, "Yo, better not be macking on my fine piece of sluttery all over here, dude! I am going to get all up in that and wear it like pants!" He took a shot. He'd had a few already, truth be told.  
  
The tone was just a little too much for Dad however, he span on his heel and slapped Bro, "How dare you, sir, this is a lady!"  
Mom practically squealed, "Oh-h-h Mister Egbert, you do care!"  
In a panic Dad swivelled and slapped her too, "Not even a little bit! I give not a fig, I am keeping all the figs!"  
Mom yelped in surprise, and more then a little excitement, and when she slapped Dad he felt like he'd got on the wrong side of a pissed off longshoreman. He twisted in the air in a daze only to face Bro.  
"Totally got this coming man," Bro slapped him in return. When Dad returned the favour Bro got mad- he pulled back and took a swing but Dad had the practised stagecraft of a born trickster and hurled himself out of the way which is why Bro accidentally laid Mom out cold with a smooth right hook.  
  
Rose calmly laid down her cutlery and stood up. "I'd just like to say something," she began quietly. The other two hesitated and looked at her guiltily. From the floor Mom made a sound like a lawnmower having trouble starting. Rose smiled humourlessly, "you two need to just strap on a pair and get a room."  
  
Bro looked at Dad and Dad looked at Bro. They both realised a way out at the same time.  
  
"You're right my dear, me and this young man are made for each other."  
"Word it up. This pipe smoking tight piece is going for a ride on the B-train."  
  
They linked arms, nodded gravely to Rose, and fled the building. And not one of them ever spoke of this again.


End file.
